


Tukumbi

by Adarog (RembrandtsWife), Kivrin



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: F/M, Librarians, Libraries, Library Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-10-22
Updated: 2007-10-22
Packaged: 2017-10-13 21:03:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/141698
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RembrandtsWife/pseuds/Adarog, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kivrin/pseuds/Kivrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Library porn written by librarians, for librarians.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tukumbi

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [](http://kivrin.livejournal.com/profile)[**kivrin**](http://kivrin.livejournal.com/) for co-writing this with me as a comfort!fic and to [](http://antennapedia.livejournal.com/profile)[**antennapedia**](http://antennapedia.livejournal.com/) for giving it the eagle eye and finding the title, which means "please" - in ancient Sumerian.

The cuneiform characters on the photocopy were starting to blur into the footprints of a lot of chickens when Rupert Giles heard a light step that made him smile without raising his head. He continued writing, or at least pretended to, until Buffy slipped into his lap and licked a drop of sweat off his neck. She ran her tongue up to the angle of his jaw, then blew on the damp skin. "Are you done now?"

He slipped off his glasses and hooked an arm around her waist, inexpressibly grateful for the distraction. "Er, no, I think we're just beginning, here."

Buffy squirmed just a little bit, grinning when she felt his breath catch. She pushed them away from his desk with the hand wasn't on the back of his neck; rolling chairs were *so* convenient sometimes. "Good. Because this is going to be a much more interesting project than translation." She started working on his tie. "Though, I dunno, translation seems to have gotten you pretty hot and bothered." She opened his collar and leaned in to kiss him between the points of his clavicle.

Giles tilted his head back, tired and cheerful and only too happy to let his Slayer take the lead. "Oh, yes," he murmured, "I find Sumerian commentaries on demonic burial rituals to be quite... quite, ah--stimulating...." He shuddered as her fingers brushed his chest and belly, running down the buttons, and her lips explored his neck.

Buffy giggled against the newly-bared skin and traced a path around his buttons with a thumbnail, finally circling the one just above his belt buckle. "Geek." She nipped him, just lightly this time. He tried to kiss her when she lifted her head, but she planted her hands on his shoulders, holding him still while she got up and slid back onto his knees, this time astride.

Giles had to restrain himself from arching up against Buffy--though he wondered if perhaps he should let himself go and see if she would restrain him. A moment ago he had been exhausted, defeated by third-generation copies of crumbling clay tablets; now all he could think about was Buffy, the scent of her perfume, the scent of her sweat, the nearness of her, and his desire to wait for whatever she wanted to give or take.

  
Buffy kicked off her shoes and just watched Giles. He sat with his eyes closed, breathing a little fast through parted lips, the strain on his face slowly giving way to anticipation. Buffy laid her hands on his shoulders, then slid her palms down his chest. He was hot, his shirt and t-shirt sticking to his skin so she could see his nipple stiffening when her hand had passed over it. She teased the little nub, first with a fingertip, then, very lightly, with a nail. His breath came faster, but he stayed still.

Restraint. Restraint. Giles held himself poised as Buffy teased his nipples through his damp shirt, using her nails. Her lips were parted, her tongue just touching her upper lip as she concentrated. Delectable mouth.... He groaned aloud as her hand suddenly dropped below his belt buckle and spread flat across his crotch. "I don't think--I can take this much longer--"

Buffy grinned. "Oh.." she cooed. "I'm sorry, I'll sto-" She bit off a cry as Giles' hands clamped around her wrist and her hip. He couldn't hold her in place if she didn't want to be held, but it was surprising. In a good way. "...Please..." he rasped. Buffy curled her fingers around him, and he gasped.

Buffy tightened her fingers, seeking the shape of him through layers of fabric, and Giles thrust up in answer, sweat springing out on his temples. He shifted his grip to her shoulders and pulled her close, close enough to bury his face in her breasts and moan against her as she stroked him.

Buffy wrapped an arm around his shoulders, keeping him close to her and steadying herself against the trembling that started when she felt his voice reverberate in her chest. She curled one leg around the back of his chair, pressing herself closer against him, while she stroked with her fingers and with her thumb tried to tease his fly down.

He felt the zipper snag and reached down to help free it. His knuckles brushed against hot damp silk beneath her rucked-up skirt, and it was her turn to moan out loud. She swayed backward on his lap as he deliberately touched her.

Buffy shuddered when he brushed his fingers over her again. "You're wet," he murmured, drawing a finger along the edge of her panties. "You," she panted, her mouth suddenly dry. She leaned in again to wet it with kissing, using her elbow to hold his hand in place, there, not quite touching her.

His hand stopped in its progress, Giles used the kiss to tell Buffy what he wanted, what he wanted to do to the rest of her body with his hands and his mouth and all the rest of him. Judging from her response, she wanted much the same thing. So who was going to move first, stop teasing the other, and get them off this damnable chair?

"Can you pick me up?" Buffy whispered in his ear.

He tightened his free arm around her, then, regretfully, shook his head. Pick her up, yes; stand up from the current position with her clinging to him, no, not with the damned arms of the chair in the way and his back stiff from hours of study. "Sorry..."

"Shh." She nipped the side of his neck again, then slipped lightly off his lap and pulled him up by both hands, letting the right go just in time to keep his trousers from dropping. "Come on."

She led him out of the office and behind the circulation desk. Giles automatically looked out the windows, but it was well after midnight; there might be demons afoot, but there were no peeping Toms in Sunnydale. A snake in the corn crib, after all, kept out the mice. Only Buffy had a key to the library doors--precisely for moments like this.

Nimbly she hopped up onto the circulation desk and propped one heel there. Somehow her panties had disappeared, and Giles groaned, falling to his knees at the sight of her, fully exposed to him.

Buffy ducked her head, feeling suddenly shy in the face of Giles' naked affection and vulnerable with her legs spread. Then his hand closed warm around her knee, and he leaned closer with a hesitant, yet eager, "Please?" and she smiled down at him, shivering again at the eagerness in his eyes. "Please," she answered, ruffling his hair.

Giles closed his eyes as he approached his lover, blocking out everything but the heat of her body and the scent of her arousal. He nuzzled her tawny curls and heard her murmur of pleasure; she shifted slightly on the desk, and he tilted his head for a long lick that spread her open like the banks of a river. He loved to do this. So immediate, so intimate, and all for her.

Buffy gasped at the warm touch of his tongue and flung a hand to the side, splayed out on the desk, to keep her balance. She kept her other hand tangled in his hair, the hair that tickled her thighs when he moved to lick her again. His hands moved up her thighs, rucking her skirt up further. He looked up into her face again, smiling, then kissed her mons and skimmed over her lips with the tip of his tongue before parting them again. Buffy moaned, letting her head go back, letting his hands hold her on the edge of the desk.

He had infinite patience for this activity, and an equally boundless desire to make her come. He knew exactly when to turn his head and press his lips to her thigh while his fingertip brushed her clit. Buffy shuddered and cried out, and Giles, grinning, thrust in closer, delving as deeply into her as he could manage.

Buffy cried out again, inching forward to draw him in even closer. "Oh. God. Giles. Giles." Her arms shook as she tried to hold herself up, her bare toes curled. When she moved, her blouse seemed rasp against her hard nipples. So close, so close...

He recognized that desperate note in her voice, the one that begged and demanded all at once. He raised his head to kiss her belly and distract her, and slipped two fingers inside her. He curled them forward against the sweet spot and swiped hard at her clit with his tongue, deliberately rough while his fingers were careful. A sweet gush of liquid drenched his fingers, wet his lips, and he felt the unmistakable clutch of her muscles on his hand, strong and wild with a Slayer's strength.

He was in her, and around her, and she was strong and bountiful, and there was nothing in her that he did not share, and nothing in him he did not give her. She heard and felt his gasp of pleasure as she tightened around his hand, and the sound held her at the peak for another long moment before her breath began to slow.

She softened and slumped, and Giles leaned back, running his hands along her thighs. She gave him a sweet smile, relaxed, yet promising more pleasure, and looped her arms around his neck. "So how about you, sweet man? Your turn, now?"

"If you like," he said. He was enjoying the feel of her smooth strong legs under his hands, not to mention the feel of her firm curved arse. As a young man he used to wonder why American women felt they had to shave themselves like sick cats, but he'd rather come to enjoy the sleekness of his lover's legs. He had no intention, however, of allowing her to remove any of the other hair on her lower body.

Buffy kissed him on the mouth, tasting her own sweetness along with his, and curled around him, nuzzling against his neck. "I like," she said, trailing one languid hand down his back to cup his butt the way he was cupping hers. Well, not really, but sorta. "Wanna sit down?" She moved her hand over to trace the cleft between his cheeks, grinning when the touch, even through two layers of fabric, made him catch his breath.

Wicked, naughty girl, Giles thought, feeling her tease the cleft of his arse. If he asked her--but no, not here. In a proper bed, with the proper supplies. "Actually, I was thinking--" He paused and looked around, then snagged the nearest kickstool with his foot. "If you could stand here, and lean on the counter, then I--" He gave her bum a meaningful squeeze.

"Ooh, a plan." She kissed him again. "I like your plans." She snuggled him, then stretched out a foot for the stool and put one hand on the edge of the counter. A little pointy, but she could fold up the front of her skirt to deal with that.

"Oh, Lord," Giles murmured. All he had to do was push up her skirt a bit more--Buffy dipped her head and raised her bottom, shamelessly inviting him. Her scent, strongly from her sex and softer on his skin, hit him like a blow to the stomach, and he could wait no longer. In one step, he closed the distance between them and slid inside her.

Buffy moaned softly, and Giles hissed with pleasure. "So wet...." He drew back and pressed in again, a little harder, relishing the glide of flesh within flesh. "So wet, love."

Buffy caught the far side of the desk and hitched herself just a little further across the counter, rising on her toes with Giles' thrust. "It's you," she said breathlessly. "You make me... oh...make me overflow..." She tightened around him just a little as he thrust again, grinning into the cool countertop at the soft sounds of arousal that she could wring from him.

"Clever girl, " Giles gasped, feeling her tighten deliberately around him. "Clever and--ah! strong." He got a firm grip on her hips and thrust a little faster. "Know you're stronger than me. Got me right where you want me, don't you?" She gave a delicious twist of her hips, giggling and moaning at once. "Right in--your *cunt*--"

"Right where you want to be..." Buffy pushed back against him when he thrust again, gasping when he filled her. "All the way inside, only person who can touch me there..." She tightened again, grinning and gasping when his fingers dug into her skin.

  
He gripped her more tightly, not fearing to leave bruises. They would fade more swiftly than any bruises she left on him. It would not be long now before he spent inside her; he wanted to make her come first, wanted to hear her cry out. "Wish I could get my whole body inside yours--all of me," he shifted one hand to her belly, "all of you--oh, Buffy--" He found her clit and rubbed hard.

  
Buffy gasped, then gasped again, trembling when he found just the right angle. "Yes," she panted. "Me too, want you, right there... yes, ohh.." She tried to wait just another moment, but he was in her and around her, his breath uneven in her ear as he whispered her name again, and then he circled her clit with a slick finger and she was coming again, gasping his name and then shouting wordlessly as she writhed between his hand and his cock.

Giles's mouth split in a feral grin as he heard his lover cry out and felt the wild rippling inside her. He thrust in as deep as he could, held himself there until she relaxed around him, and then let himself go. He thrust once, twice more, and groaned as he spilled, wrapping his arms around Buffy and letting his head drop to her back. All of me, he thought, too spent to speak. All of you.

Buffy petted his hand, then, when the glow receded just a little, reached over her own shoulder to brush first his sweat-damp hair, then his cheek, with her fingers. She curled her free arm comfortably under her head and basked in the warm nearness of Giles until he stirred to kiss her back. "Mmm," she said happily. "Giles."

Giles straightened up, reluctantly. "My love." With a soft grunt, he disengaged from her. There was a handkerchief in his pocket, but his pocket was somewhere below his knees.... Ah, well. Buffy, too, straightened up, stretched, arms above her head, then turned and wound her arms around his neck, capturing him for a lingering kiss.

"Wanna take me home, so I can freshen up?"

Giles retrieved his garments from around his ankles. "You just want to use my good shampoo," he accused.

"Noo, I want you to use your good shampoo on me." She kissed him again, more briefly. "Totally different. I'll scrub your back...?"

He fastened his belt, then embraced her. "I'll think about it." He smoothed her skirt down around her hips. "Yes." He kissed her neck lightly. "My love," he said again.

"Love," she answered, hugging him. "Come on." She hopped down from the stool and took his hand. "Let's go home."

***

Sum/Eng lexicon: <http://www.sumerian.org/sumlogo.htm>


End file.
